The Joker and the PHD
by Remona.Alkev
Summary: Harley meets the Joker and the Joker finds a mind to mold. Something I wrote for fun.


"BOOOOOOOOREDDDDDD! HA! I"M BOOOORRREDDDD!"

The guard banged on the door. "SHUT UP CLOWN!"  
"Then make me less BOOREDDDDDDD!" _I wish I could crush his skull with my bare hands. Let his blood stain the floor of my horribly quiet, non scream filled, padded cell. I wonder if they'll let me into the lunchroom so I can start a brawl again._ The Joker was in a bad mood. _There's nothing fun around here_. He sulked. _No toys, no nothing._ He suddenly heard heels clicking on the corridor. "And here is our most dangerous patient, the Joker."

A coolly disinterested voice answered, "Ah? Him? Fascinating. Who's working with him now Joan?"

"Me."

"That must be a prestigious case."

"It is." Dr Joan-the-annoying said proudly. _Why have I not killed her yet? Right. They aren't allowing me even crayons anymore. After I killed my last doctor with a pencil they figured crayons would be a tactical nuke for me. WHICH THEY WOULD! HA!_

"I do hope he has good sense of humor." The disinterested voice said. _She might be a laugh._

"You must be kidding!"

"Certainly not. At least the sessions with The Joker could be punctuated with laughter don't you think?"

"HE FIND KILLING PEOPLE FUNNY!" Joan shouted.

"Maybe we just don't get the joke."

Joker burst out in hysterical laughter. "Dont. . . Ha hahahaha. . . Get the . . . . joke!"

"Harleen Quinzel look at what you've done!"

The Joker staggered over to the window of bulletproof glass. "I like you." He purred. "I think with a bit of ah, learning you'll get the joke." For the first time he saw the new doctor. She had a delicate face with full lips and wide baby blue eyes. _Blue like cotton candy. What I would not kill for some cotton candy?_

Her skin was porcelain pale and she had blonde hair. Under her lab coat she wore what the Joker liked to call a fuck me outfit. A short skirt and a royal blue button down top. She looked impossibly young and beautiful next to the diminutive Joan.

 _She looks like a naive schoolgirl. A mind ready to mould. And that figure is fascinating. I wonder where the curves end?_ "Harleeeeeeen Quinzelllllll." He drawled. "Harley Quinn. Harlequin. I like you."

"Good morning Joker." She said. Her red lips curled into a grin, a beautiful smile, a smile with a hint of crazy. _I found my new toy._ Joker retreated, chuckling. _I think one of my friends is going to pay Dr Arkam a little visit. Life is much less boring now._

Dr Arkam was unnerved and it took a LOT to unnerve him. Somehow, some-fucking-how the JOKER had managed to leave him a gift. _Some sick gift it is_. His walls were painted a new color, red. They were painted not with paint but blood. Only one patch was clear and on the white wall was written. . .

WHO GETS THE JOKE? HARLEEN QUINZEL. HA ! HA ! HA !

It was clear what Joker wanted Harleen as his therapist. _I'm not giving into that clown._ Two months, sixteen body parts and five whoopie cushions later Arkham gave in.

Two months after she was admitted to Arkam as a psychiatrist, Harleen Quinzel was in an irreversibly good mood. Finally FINALLY she could work with the Joker. She clutched the files to her chest and squealed in happiness. _Shut up Harleen._ She immediately chastised herself. _Nobody likes a giggly blonde. Next they'll think you're dumb. But I DO have a PHD!_

Arkam had called her into his office looking frazzled and said she could take the case. Harleen got into her car and drove home. She opened her door to her apartment and danced around the spacious loft, cheering. She did a couple backflips, slammed into the wall and groaned. "Ouch." _Well, That's just great, go into your appointment tomorrow with a concussion Harleen. Verryyyy smart._ "Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Okay. Harleen, get a grip." Her phone rang and she jumped to it. _Please be Mom. Please be Mom. I wanna tell her this._ "Harleen?"

"Oh god."

"No, just Robert. Although, i've been told there is a striking resemblance."

"Fuck off." Harleen hung up. _I hate exes. Especially obsessive exes._

"You have a call Clown." The guard snarled. _There goes my one call a week._ Joker thought. _Don't they record my calls? Ah well. Arkam would expect me wanting the info on my shrink._ The guard wacked the Joker with his bat.

Joker grinned. "Watch it! Don't wanna hurt this good samaritan!"

"Fucking crazy Clown." he snarled, putting cuffs and a straightjacket on joker. "Isn't that overkill? You already cuffed my hands and feet. Why the jacket?' Joker demanded. "I'm not an animal."

"As good as one."

"How many of your friends have I killed?" Joker drawled. "Five, ten?"

"Two."

The Joker promptly collapsed into giggles. "I thought it was more! I better uh, up my quota hmm?"

The guard looked at him with contempt. "You bastard."

"Go ahead! Take a shot!" Joker howled. The guard complied, slamming Joker's head against the floor. "Never go to the head first!" Joker protested. "The victim won't feel the next-" The guard punched him. "Ah. See?"

Heels clicked on the floor. "What on earth is going on?"

"Dr. Harleen Quinzel." The guard stammered.

 _Hung up on ol Doc huh?_ Joker thought. "The guard here was attacking me for no reason." Joker said happily, attempting to wipe away the blood trickling down his temple. Harleen looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just peachy. HA! HO! HE! HA! HA!"

"Here." She carefully wiped off his face. "I'll see you later today for our session."

"You're his shrink?" The guard asked.

"Yes. And I'll have you reported for beating a patient." _Reported? HA!_ The Joker broke into laughter as the guard hauled him towards the phone. "Info?" Joker asked Larry, his goon on the outside.

"On Harleen Quinzel?"

"What else am I paying you for?" Joker snapped.

"She has a mother in a nursing home, no other relatives besides a father in prison and a dead brother. She also has an ex that she's filed a restraining order against. She drives a red toyota."

"Hm. Interesting." The Joker laughed his way back to his cell.


End file.
